


She Has Your Eyes

by PinkROmantic



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: AKA: Dante gets a baby and nobody is ready, AKA: Revisiting a past relationship is also terrifying, AKA: Single-parent Dante, AKA: Taking care of a baby is terrifying, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Basically there's a whole can of worms in here, Dante has the best girl friends, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Past Relationship(s), Slight Child-Neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkROmantic/pseuds/PinkROmantic
Summary: An old affair of Dante leaves a baby at Devil May Cry's door, thus reopening old wounds.While they try to figure out how to deal with the unexpected new addition to the family, the trio of hunters are faced by mysteries that may be better left unsolved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **EDIT: (19/07/18)** So. They announced DMC5 and while I'm gushing about itjust like anybody else, I was completely distraught over the revelation of the new female character Nico, given that I already named my OC 'Nicole', and even though I had the option of not giving a shit, it turns out that I do give a shit, so instead of screaming to Capcom for this treason, I decided to simply change the name of 'Nicole' to 'Ursula'.  
>  I think Ursula has a better ring to it, now that I think about it. So, I'm sorry for the inconveniences.
> 
> Oh, I also gave the fic another extensive editing because I am a big dumb dumb and forget to double-check everything that I ever write. Don't be like me, write smart.

_She wore a ring with a large yellow gemstone in her long bony fingers resting under her chin. It was her grandmother’s ring, she must’ve returned to that house to pick it up of all things. Her thin lips struggled to find a smile and her teary red eyes wouldn’t meet his again._

_She was afraid of him, but for what reason, he couldn’t decide._

_“… I’m sorry… I’m bad. I just… really wanted to do something good for you, Dante, at least once. But I guess I can’t even do that, right?”_

_And he was unable to stop her as she slowly walked away, as if waiting for his heavy footsteps to follow. But he didn’t. Even though he wanted so bad to go, he forced himself to stand his ground. There was some sort of helplessness filling him as the girl disappeared from his sight, a sad relief and an aching rage he couldn’t pick apart._

_She left and that was all that he needed, his broken heart would understand this within time._

…

The old chirping ring of the outdated phone fazed him out of his sleep, had it been replaced for a less grating sound he would’ve ignored it until it stopped. He cracked one eyelid open to confirm the light of morning didn’t grace the windows of the obscure shop yet. He’d fallen asleep again with his back reclined on a chair while his legs rested on his desk, a lewd magazine slipping off his chest as he heaved. The phone didn’t stop for a good minute. In a good morning he wouldn’t have neglected a call, but he was too sour and tired to put up with it now.

“Devil May Cry… we don’t open until 9.” He yawned, and abruptly hung up.

It rang again right away. He had to repress a groan, having to hear the damned ring for another whole minute, so he picked it up just to immediately hang. It didn’t work. The phone just kept ringing for another three minutes, and he almost felt like disconnecting the phone, but he just gave up the asshole-act.

“… Yeah?”

“Don’t hang up.”

There was a tired female voice on the other side, the light static making it hard to figure their identity, but he was pretty sure it couldn’t be Trish or Lady, neither bothered to call him this early if they knew his habits well enough. “… Look at your porch.”

“Yeah, no, sorry babe, but it’s cold outside and it’s not time for my morning jog yet, sooo—”

“Dante, this is important.”

“Okay, bye~”

“Please just look. Help her, you’re the only one I can count on.”

“Who’s this?” he droned.

“… Don’t look for me.” And just like that they hung up.

Dante sighed in annoyance, if the receiver’s sound wasn’t utter crap, he surely would have recognized the voice. Besides, the message was too ominous to be from his close colleagues, so he could rule them out.

He stared at his shop’s door, the idea of stepping out alone was such a hassle.

Putting down the phone, he took out one of his pistols, and threaded to the door with heavy steps, “I better not see a flaming bag of crap at my door, ya hear me?” he shouted, kicking out the door abruptly.

He didn’t shoot. Looks were deceitful and he often relied on his senses to find traps of supernatural hailing, but he found none, although his senses were alerting him of the presence of demonic nature he couldn’t feel any immediate threat. There was just the chilly air of the dawn.

Suddenly, a new sound broke down, his eyes darted to his shop’s porch, and Dante could feel his heart dropping down to his stomach.

The pitiful wailing of a baby coming from a bundle of clothes inside what appeared to be a cradle, right in front of him. “Oh come on! Are we seriously doing this?” he groaned loudly.

Dante looked out right and left, up and beyond, but whoever left this child at his door was already far away. He felt stupid and guilty for standing out there like an idiot while listening to the cries of the child for a solid minute, not knowing for sure what to do. He felt even more stupid when he picked up the shell-like cradle, trapped in a weird mix of dread and fascination.

The baby seemed to lessen the crying when they noticed the man, but didn’t seem to calm them, Dante was after all just a stranger in their eyes and haven’t yet given the child a reason to stop being distressed. Dante could relate, he felt like he unironically wanted to cry.

“Hey… shhh… it’s okay. Shhh, stop crying.” He wanted to sound reassuring, but he honestly didn’t know if it’d matter to a baby, he was still freaking out even as his arms shook awkwardly the little cradle. “That’s it, no crying… Wait, damnit, what am I doing?”

He unceremoniously twirled the his left to avoid a painfully predictable sickle slash, when six wraith-like black demons showed up. He sighed, not wanting to even pretend that he cared about them. Besides, six only? Didn’t they know that seven was the lucky number? Probably came in a rush, saw him distraught with a baby and probably thought _‘Look guys, Dante totally has his guard down, let’s do a sneak-attack, hurr durr!_ ’. Such an amateur’s mistake.

Without letting go of the cradle, Dante yanked out Ivory and ducked other three attempts to cut him, he spun to give one of those Pride demons a roundhouse kick that literally plastered them to the other side of the street’s walls, he gave two gunshots to the second one before headbutting a third that tried to stab him in the chest.

Dante went a little trigger happy to deal with the remaining four, yet felt too uninterested to add any more spice to his fight, these demons were relatively easy to deal with for him. The baby’s cries intensified with the ruckus of the gunfire, so the faster he dealt with them, the sooner he’d be focused on quieting the bawling child.

After shooting down the last of them, Dante returned to his shop with the cradle still under his arm.

How more clichéd could this get? How many stories started out like this? Mystery parent leaves a special baby alone at the door of someone with the expectation that they’d be taken care of? Dante wished he could be less predictable than what had been written thousands of times. But he had to acknowledge that his reality had been nothing short of clichés and none had been more surprising than this.

The child eventually ceased sobbing, as if they finally realized that Dante didn’t mean harm, and the interior of the shop was significantly warmer than the neighborhood’s streets. Dante hesitated to put down the cradle on his desk, now that he examined it more closely, he realized it was actually some sort of musty blue shell, possibly from an insect-like spawn, and the clothes that wrapped the child was merely a bunch of dirty silk-like gauze. The child must’ve been freezing outside…

He unwrapped her from the thin cloth simply to verify that the baby was in fact a girl, small and soft, her face was all pink and eyes swollen from crying so much.

He finally braved to scoop the baby from the shell, doing exactly what he’s seen people do in movies when they carried a tiny child like this, his strong arms acting as a supplementary cradle.

The first thing she did when he held her in his arms was cling to his shirt, like her life depended on it. And in a way, it did. Her soft tubby little fingers were strong for an infant, testament of what she truly was, but he still cradled her in fear of breaking her little body.

She was calm now, her little blue eyes looked back into him, innocence and curiosity that were completely alien to demons. He wished he could be just as calm.

Dante had no idea of how to take care of a child this small. Sure, he had prior experience on jobs consisting of protecting  and saving children from devils and cultist crap, but never demanded a whole lot of investment from him. Besides, from what he could make out, this wasn’t really a job.

The fact that they even left her at his door of all places… Dante didn’t want to dwell on it but his worst suspicions could be confirmed if he put the minimum amount of logical thought into it. He was tempted to go out and run to the streets, baby in arms, yelling and demanding an explanation for this bullshit.

He considered calling to Trish first. In the past several months they’ve grown a little distant and he felt awkward to call her in to announce ‘ _guess what, somebody dropped a baby on my porch_.’ That’d been a good conversation starter were they still in better terms... But what were the chances of Trish knowing what to do?

In the end, he called on Lady, cryptically telling her to come to the shop quickly. She didn’t press him for questions, saying she could be there in an hour or two.

Needless to say, the wait was hell. Dante just kept cooing the child nervously and whenever he felt like he wanted to pick a magazine or turn on the TV, the baby whined, as if not wanting him to leave her alone.

It was tragically hilarious, a big tough hunter like him losing his nerves with a tiny baby alone. He didn’t want to panic, but what was he supposed to do if the child took a crap or if she was hungry? Dante wasn’t really equipped to look after a baby’s needs.

But then again, this wasn’t a normal human baby.

The one who called minutes ago could only be _her_.

Ursula.

The last time he was ever intimate with a woman was with Ursula, whom he tried so hard to forget for the past few months, to a degree. He was currently split between wanting to chase the madwoman to shove the baby back into her arms, or just letting her go and kick back this bad trip down memory lane for good.  

One thing was certain: this was Ursula’s baby. And he wasn’t sure if being certain about the baby’s origins that made things better or worse.

Dante looked down at the child for a while, examining the length and hair color. It was a little hard to tell if it was white or just a very light shade of blonde, but judging from how much its grown, Dante imagined the baby had to be only a few months short of a year.

And well, he hadn’t seen Ursula for over a year, which led to… “Noooo…” he whispered with deadpan surprise, throwing his head back.

Before two hours went by, Lady came into the shop, her carefree mug dropped along her brown sunglasses when her heterochromatic eyes met Dante’s little guest on his lap as he sat on the couch. Lady put down the heavy missile thrower ‘Kalina Ann’ she carried to where work called, not without eyeing her coworker inquisitively.

“That’s a cute one. For how long do you need to take care of them and how much you’re getting paid?” she sighed, as if this was nothing but a tiring unfunny joke.

Dante couldn’t say he felt any differently from her. “This ain’t a babysitting job, Ursula literally left her on my door early this morning.”

Lady seemed to keep her reaction in check when he talked of Ursula, only offering him a knowing look, Dante briefly swayed his eyes somewhere else. “And you didn’t sense her coming?”

“As I said, she only dropped the baby at my door this morning while I was asleep, she didn’t even linger long enough for me to sense anything. She called at my shop then, she must be pretty far away by now.”

“She called? How did she sound?”

“I haven’t heard her voice in while, cannot really tell. Her words might’ve come off as desperate, if anything.”

“Any note left?”

“Nope.”

“Are you even sure that this is a real baby?”

That question made him tense, and in all fairness, this wouldn’t be the first time Dante was personally targeted by enemies with particularly underhanded tactics. Lady was right to put the baby in question. Ursula wasn’t the type to do this, but was he fully certain that Ursula was the one behind this at all?

Dante shrugged and picked up the child again, placing her inside the shell-like cradle, aware that Lady wouldn’t feel at ease otherwise.

“You can hold her at gunpoint if you want, but she’s just a harmless little baby, human or not.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Lady reached into her military pouch and took what appeared to be a round ornate glass vial.

Holy water was used mostly just to distract or repel demons momentarily, although they usually left vicious burns on them for a considerable period of time, and devil hunters carried a few vials anywhere. Dante used to do it a long time ago, but he thought that the irritability that the water caused him wasn’t worth the trouble. Lady opened the little vial and poured some on her leather gloved hand, sprinkled lightly on the child’s arm. The contact with it made steam appear over the baby’s tender skin.

The child shed a high-pitched cry, flailing her stubby little arms up, having no way to defend herself from the pain she felt. Immediately Dante pulled her close to his chest, trying to shush the baby. “Well… at least now we know she is not entirely demonic, otherwise the water would’ve melted her arm to the bone.”

“On top of that, she’s completely helpless… Nothing more than a child” he muttered, feeling like a jerk for letting Lady run that little test on the girl. He could see a glint of guilt on the bewildered huntress’ face as she placed the holy water vial back to her bag. “I’m sorry, baby, sorry. You’re okay now.”

Both devil hunters shushed awkwardly at the child, both guilt-stricken and unsure of how to deal with this very human-like child.

Eventually, it seemed the baby’s cries died down from exhaustion, the poor thing was sniveling and her burnt arm was shivering. He tried to cover it with the cloth, even though he knew it’d heal eventually.

He haven’t panicked this much in years, Dante didn’t have anything resembling fatherly instinct even when he had to protect children in the past. Why couldn’t this be like all those other times?

Lady sat down on the desk with her shoulders sagging, still perplexed.

“So, is this for real? She’s yours?”

Her words struck Dante hard, his mouth went unpleasantly dry with the one question that he didn’t want to hear for the answer he already had. He knew who this child was the moment he remembered Ursula, and that thought… frightened him.

Even seeing the burn marks of holy water not completely faded away from the baby’s skin made him feel sick in the stomach, his chest was her only comfort. He didn’t know what to do or how to deal with these alarming new feelings. He suddenly didn’t want to turn his gaze away from the baby, fearing that she’d cry aloud again.

“What do you want me to say, Lady? I don’t have a case against that assumption, for now.”

“Well… you certainly look pensive about this baby. But whether she’s yours or not, she was left here by Ursula.”

“So what? Do you think she planned on this?” Dante sighed.

“If her goal was to make you take the baby under your care because she didn’t want it anymore, it’s a possibility.” Lady didn’t know that. She knew that she didn’t know that. But she also wanted to quickly grasp at an explanation to this conundrum, anything to dismiss the problem and move on to the next. Dante, on the other hand, was still trying to digest what was currently happening.

“And… what if something else was up? I mean, she was literally pleading me through the phone.” It was the first thing he came up with, and it just made them both uncomfortable.

“If that was the case, then we’d obviously need to search for her. If some stronger demon is after her and the baby, she must’ve… decided that she wanted to prioritize the child’s safety first. But why did she leave? It’s not like you’d turn your back on her if she was in danger in spite of… well, everything.” At that last sentence, Dante hunched his shoulders.

“Knowing her, she’d just act guilty because it’d look like she’s using the baby as an excuse to stay with me.”

Lady frowned lightly. “Many people use their children to force their partners to stay in a relationship. I didn’t think she’d be sensible about this.”

However, these were merely conjectures, and Ursula was the only one who could give them answers.

The baby seemed to get fidgety again, Dante’s hands got sweaty against the cloth wrapping her, so he handed the child to Lady, who didn’t even think when she held her in her arms to sway her. She obviously had as much experience as he did (none whatsoever), but didn’t let that stop her from trying.

“In any case, if we cannot find her and make her take responsibility, this child still needs a proper home.” The child’s hands went up to Lady’s face, she was visibly uncomfortable. “Yes, that’s my nose.”

“That home is obviously not here with me, right?”

Lady struggled with keeping the child’s hands from touching her face.

“Are you mad? You can’t really afford to take care of a baby in your line of work!”

And she was telling the truth. He wasn’t sure why he brought it up all of sudden. The sole idea of having to make himself responsible for a toddler wasn’t exactly enticing. But part of him knew that he had no choice, the child already existed.

“I know that. But this is no ordinary child, and I’m no ordinary man. Look, I agree that we should look for a better place for her, but in the meanwhile, I should be the one to keep her safe.”

Lady sighed in disbelief and passed the baby back to him, her white blouse was dirty with baby drool.

“Just promise that you won’t get too attached. This is no nursery.”

“Can’t promise anything.”

Lady turned around, effortlessly picking up her huge weapon as she walked towards the doors.

“… I’ll just go out and buy some baby stuff. Do some homework yourself and google how to change diapers while she’s under your care, okay?”

Dante grimaced. “Diapers sound like another circle from hell.”

“Can’t have her taking care of her business on the floorboards. Then again, you never cared much about cleaning this place up, so I guess a bit of poop isn’t going to bother you.”

“Fine, fine, I get it.” Lady was making this favor to him in the first place, he wanted to show a little more gratitude, but the morning hasn’t been nice to him in particular. The baby seemed to breathe more calmly against his shirt. “… I owe ya.”

“I still expect you to help me find Ursula. There might be something else we’re missing.”

He breathed with a forced smile, “… Let’s hope for the best, I guess?”

Again, Lady wasn’t wrong, but even if Ursula was in some deep trouble and was forced to leave the baby behind, Dante was busier deciding whether he wanted her in his life.

‘ _But she’s never truly gone, right?_ ’ As long as this tiny child existed, she would never be truly gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trish and Dante talk about blood and distasteful breastfeeding jokes.

Trish half-expected to see something uniquely entertaining when Lady made her know about Dante’s new little problem. She could at least say that she was impressed when she found the white-haired male on his old-as-god ugly couch asleep while a human-looking baby crawling on the ceiling above him like it was nobody’s business.

He shuddered out of his sleep as soon as Trish closed the doors behind her and immediately cursed as he jumped to the ceiling to snatch the child. The creature he was cradling in his arms immediately turned on many alarms inside Trish’s head, a simultaneous urge of wanting to wrestle the child off his arms to kill it, or maybe just attend its cries of hunger.

Dante shushed to the little devil hybrid in his arms. Sufficed to say, Trish could tell from the tired look on his face and the mess over the shop’s floor that her former job partner had absolutely no idea of what he was doing.

There was dried vomit all over his shirt, he noticed with resignation after mumbling something about ‘glad I wasn’t wearing the good coat’.

Apparently he’s been trying to feed the creature with regular baby food while Lady was away looking into the city for a clue on the mother’s whereabouts, so he was kept awake by the task of learning how to care of the baby. So when he took himself for granted and decided to take a quick nap, the baby just puked the food and decided to explore the shop for something to eat… Trish had to contain her laughter, even a guy as powerful as Dante had his own limits.

“You’re starving her.”

He steered a dead glare at Trish. “She just throws up everything I give to her.”

“She’s a baby demon. A little of your blood should nurture her body before she can begin to tolerate human food.” His eyes widened in realization.

“Wait. Oh. Ohhh, damn, you’re right!”

Trish didn’t know how Dante was raised before the death of his mother Eva, but he probably haven’t needed it since he was a baby himself, but it surely had to be the blood of his father Sparda to feed both him and his brother. Trish fed on blood when she was born… it was something that she simply took for granted as a fiend. At least it was safe to assume that Dante’s hybrid blood would be good for the child.

Dante went through a few drawers, found a dark blue dagger he must’ve discarded unceremoniously years ago, its edge was imbued with magic meant to hinder the natural regenerative qualities of plenty demons. It smelled like ocean salt. It would be a very powerful weapon if it wasn’t so small and useless at long-range fights (which were basically 90% of them). The name of the dagger was… _Cronus_ , maybe? She didn’t remember it well, Dante probably forgot he had it until now.

He didn’t find a practical way to cut himself and make it look cool, so he just sliced his index finger open, he seemed mildly amused about the fact that his wound didn’t close immediately. Dante sat again on the couch and picked the baby in his arms, this time he offered his bleeding finger. He almost gasped when the baby instinctively started sucking the blood from the wound. She was drinking hungrily.

Trish didn’t know how to feel upon this sight, she crossed her arms as she tried to scrutinize the face of her old friend and then the baby’s now relaxed expression. It was… relieving to witness such a warm scene with Dante, and Trish somehow felt like a participant of this.

It was weird to be included again in something unrelated to devil-hunting, for once to not feel like an intruder.

It wasn’t like he’d ever call her an intruder or a nuisance, but she could simply sense whenever her presence alone put Dante on edge, no matter how good he was at masking it. For once, Trish was glad that he had something nice to capture his attention, so he could ignore their mutual tension. They haven’t really talked outside of job in months, so the baby was a good excuse to act civil.

“Now you’re staring” he said nonchalantly.

“She’s very unlike most demon spawns I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, that’s because she’s part human, you dummy.”

“You know I don’t deal with human children. They’re all pretty gross.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Wanna try holding her?”

“Pass.” To this, she slowly backed away. The mere thought of allowing her to take in her arms one very human-looking child unnerved her. She didn’t want to dwell on the reasons why it made her feel that way.

But that begged for the question: what did Dante feel about this situation? Sure, the implications of Ursula abandoning the baby without an explanation raised some red flags and no doubt they’d be looking into it for a while, but Dante seemed strangely laid-back about it, especially for such an intimate affair.

Then again, Dante was the same as Trish when it came to handling their emotional issues: act cool and pretend nothing bothered them.

“Lady told me that a good place to send the child would be Vie de Marli.”

“Yeah, we talked about that. There’s a community made up of human/demon hybrids right there. Haven’t been there myself, but she has. The baby might be safer in that place.”

“… And are you convinced of that?”

He arched one brow. “What’re you talking about?”

“I mean, it’s not a bad plan per se. Granted, if they raise her right, they will make sure she becomes an apt hunter for their clan. But if that is what’s meant to happen, what’s all of that going to mean to you? Will she know from where she came from? Would you like her to know?”

“Hey, hey, hold on a second! Don’t make me second-guess about this, Trish! You know that I’m not really a dad-kind of guy, not to mention that ninety percent of time I’m dead-ass broke. That’s the perfect recipe for bad parenting. And if she did stay, I would have to teach her how to fight anyway, just with less resources. Not to mention that me and everyone ever I cared about are bound to become walking targets for all sorts of nasty demons.”

Trish chuckled. “… Those are actually very good points. I take everything back.”

“Yes, thank you!” As Dante energetically agreed, the little one started to whine and he had to pull out the nasty drool-drenched finger from her little mouth. “Huh, even with Cronus the wound closes a little too fast.”

“Ever thought about breastfeeding her? Even if you’re male it could definitely work.” Dante’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Just kidding.”

She found it hilarious that Dante still looked down at his chest anyway and then squinted back at her in silence while he cradled the baby a little above the half of his chest. He actually believed her for a split-second.

Dante shook his head and put the baby back on the little cradle as he headed to the back of his shop. “I’m just gonna bleed on the bottle with the formula, maybe diluting it will make her grow out of it faster.”

“Go do that.”

When left alone with the baby, Trish stepped more closely, observing. She was fascinated with how odd the creature was.

Most demons were born with some sort of basic intelligence, most of them were born ready to fight and to die. This child was probably half a year old and exhibited none of the aforementioned. This is why human hybrids were greatly despised in her kind, they inherited the curse of their human mortality and their strength was gradual and ephemeral. In a world where weakness was seen as the ultimate sin, any semblance of humanity was considered disgusting.

But Trish didn’t care. She learned to not care. Nobody was born strong and strength wasn’t permanent. Nobody would say it out loud, but strength was overrated.

“You sure you don’t want to hold her?” Dante asked again, Trish watched the baby with the attentiveness of a cat who just found a shiny thing. He was holding a plastic bottle that contained pink-looking milk inside, for the baby.

“You sure you want to trust me to care for a child?”

He scooped the child in his arms and offered the bottle’s nipple to see if she’d pick up the hint. “Dunno, would you try to eat her?”

“I was considering it.”

“Thought you were on a diet?”

“I can allow myself a few guilty pleasures. I’ve been such a nice girl.”

“Heh, doubt it. But yeah… I was kind of hoping that you’d keep an eye on her at least for a couple of hours. I’ve been holed up in here since yesterday and a man needs to stretch his legs. Not to mention that I’m hungry.”

There was probably still some food in his fridge, but he never picked anything from his fridge when he was hungry.

“Lady is going to yell at you for leaving the baby to me.”

“I can live with that.”

The baby didn’t seem to like the mix of formula and it was spilling down her chin. “Thought that you liked the baby”, Trish hummed.

“What? No! I hate this small screeching vomit machine. Please, just take her off my hands!” Trish smiled at his painfully blatant lie as he gently cleaned up the mess with his already dirty shirt.

“Whatever you say, Dante. Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

“So is that a ‘yes’?”

Trish shrugged, the baby did manage to drink up a little bit of that milk without throwing up, so it could be called a progress? Dante looked cautiously satisfied.

“I’ll watch over her, just don’t expect me to carry her… And make it an hour, no more.”

“Gotcha.”

He had to throw away his vomit-stained shirt after he laid down the child on her little cradle. She was well-fed and tired, she’d probably fall asleep if she was left undisturbed, Trish wouldn’t be able to accept any other possibility.

Dante said he’d be going out to pick up a pizza instead of calling for delivery, he probably craved to have some precious few moments for himself. Otherwise, Trish knew they would both be forced to talk to each other about something other than the baby. It was like an invisible mutual understanding of each other’s boundaries set by the awkward state of their friendship.

Trish respected his desire to not talk about their problems as much as she expected him to not reopen old wounds. They were good at maintaining the peace, but not working for closure.

And was fine like this.

….

Dante sighed as he left the shop, looked into his wallet and briefly counted his money. He might have to ask Harry again how much he had on his tab, see if he could pay it now. He didn’t need to walk more than six blocks to get there on a normal pace. Perhaps he’d even eat right there. Somehow he didn’t feel like eating in the shop with Trish watching, to hell if she wanted some.

The pizzeria’s owner was reasonably surprised to watch the mercenary walk into his place when most of time he only called for delivery. Dante just sat on the first to the small array of tables and said: “Same as always, Harry. Make it two. And since when do you serve more than just pizza? Why is there’s a whole secret menu here that I didn’t hear about?”

Harry, the owner, who just finished talking to his cashier, sighed at Dante with a hint of exasperation. “That’s just the regular menu, Dante. Has been right for the last three years.”

“Why.” Dante deadpanned.

“Business needed some expansion. Becoming more family-friendly has been keeping the business going so far.”

Dante shrugged it off and just waved at the chubby cashier girl on the other side, who blushed violently and waved back at him with a smile.

“Hey, no flirting.”

“I was just saying ‘hi’, she’s your new girl, right?”

“Don’t have to remind you about what happened last time you flirted with one of my employees.”

Dante winced but didn’t let it show, he really wasn’t up to banter about past relationships right now. Harry mostly put up with Dante’s shit because years ago he saved his life from a demon, back when business was barely open, but Dante wished he was just as thankful, as he haven’t paid his pizza tab in weeks, and Harry would begrudgingly remind him every time.

“I’ll just read the menu real quick while I wait for the pizza, I might order some snack to accompany it.”

“Suit yourself.”

Dante found himself glaring at the kiddie’s menu for a little too long, looking at the chicken nuggets and small burgers ( _Burgers!? Since when!?_ ). He didn’t want to think about Trish’s words or the girl. He just wanted to eat a whole pizza and forget that there was a smaller mouth that he needed to feed until it became someone else’s problem.

The past two days have become the longest he’s had in years; on top of having to look up on how to properly take care of a baby and having to clean poop and change diapers, Dante felt genuinely scared for the child. He tried to not have feelings about the baby, knowing that if he allowed it to happen, he’d be forced to acknowledge something he didn’t want to.

He ate a little too fast. It was disgusting and the other customers and the cashier watched in both awe and horror as he devoured three quarters of the first meaty pizza by himself. Because of his job and type of body, Dante consumed a lot of energy and needed to eat more than a regular guy his size, but usually he liked to take his sweet time to savor the food. In the last few days he hadn’t eaten properly either.

He told Harry he’d have the rest of the pizza to take away after he paid, along what he already owed him. Dante left the pizzeria with his wallet considerably smaller. He bought a 6 pack of beer on the way back to his shop, knowing that he exceeded the time that he promised to Trish.

Vaguely he wondered if Trish didn’t eat the child while he was gone. Vaguely he hoped that he didn’t have to change another dirty diaper as soon as he entered.

Then again, changing a diaper would be the perfect excuse to not talk to Trish about their issues with each other. He did his best to pretend that their fight didn’t still affect him, the baby was a good distraction, but he could tell how awkward it was for Trish to keep on being in the same room as he every time.

Yeah, he definitely could take changing another diaper.

….

_“Just look at yourself, this isn’t like you anymore. What’s happened, Dante?” Trish’s hands were on her waist, looking down at him with icy blue eyes. He finished to drink another beer can. “Why are you still putting up with her?”_

_“How about you mind your own damn business?” His voice echoed in the shop, only the two of them were left in here, the absence of Ursula was suddenly all too noticeable. He just wanted to lie down on his desk for a little bit, was that too much to ask?_

_“Do you think you’re fixing her with your kindness? Is that what this is about?”_

_“Ugh. Shut up.” He wasn’t drunk enough for this kind of talk._

_“No. Why are you letting her get away with all of this? Is pitying her really worth it?”_

_“Trish, I swear, if you don’t shut up—”_

_“… For how long did you think we wouldn’t realize there’s something wrong?”_

_It was at that moment when he jumped off his desk’s chair, his aggressive stance didn’t make a dent on Trish’s opposition._

_“The hell d’you know ‘bout what’s good or bad for me?”_

_“She may act like a human, even feel like a human, but she’s still bound to her instincts, instincts that she shows she cannot control wholly. You know that.”_

_“How dandy that you put her demonic nature against her when you’re yourself no better” he replied with a dark tone. That certainly made Trish flinch. “How do you think it feels like to wake up every day for me, Trish, knowing that there’s you walking around my shop, wearing my mother’s face? All while I have to remember that you took part on what happened to Vergil too? How do you think I feel?”_

_Trish gritted her teeth, and he tried to not look at her in the eye, keep himself from recalling his own mother’s angry face. “Dante, that’s not—”_

_“With what right do you judge Ursula when you’ve done much worse things to me? Get off your high horse for a damn minute!”_

_“It’s not the same thing…!”_

_“Right! How could anything she’s done ever compare to what you’ve done?”_

_She was clearly hurt by his words, and Dante almost immediately regretted them, but he decided to stand his ground. It was easier to attack Trish rather than let her continue attacking Ursula, he decided. Of course it was base to use such tactics, but he’s been hitting rock bottom for a while now._

_The she-devil with his mother’s face turned around and walked away, but stopped at the shop’s door, so adamant on getting the last word._

_“She truly loves you, I cannot deny that. But that doesn’t mean that she can’t do horrible things because of it.”_

_It was in a sudden surge of rage and pettiness where Trish barely avoided getting hit by that can of beer, as it violently clashed against the door now closed. He cursed himself as his fingers dug into his messy hair, feeling deeply ashamed for his stupidity._

_He knew that Trish was right, but he didn’t want to hear it or accept it. It was too late to do that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave your kudos or comments if you will.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante is getting in touch with his parental instincts. It's time to talk about the mother.

Her feet were small and incredibly soft, Dante felt extremely silly when he discovered how he liked to gently pull at the child’s feet, see how she kicked him back while giggling. He was, of course, bored out of his mind if he found this entertaining, but if nobody was watching him right now, so it didn’t weigh on him to play with her.

Routines weren’t difficult on Dante, he was always a fast learner, but knowing that he’d soon have to give up the child made him want to put less effort on taking care of her. The child wasn’t terribly bad-behaved after he figured how to not make her cry, but he observed that when she lost interest in the caterpillar plushie toy, she’d start to wander on her fours everywhere on the shop, she could even climb on the walls and ceiling effortlessly, her inherent demonic biology at work.

Second time he fell asleep she was already fiddling with the grotesque trophies he clipped on his wall with rusty swords. Dante sighed in annoyance, just when he thought it’d start to get easy, the baby would find another way to make him worry. He wondered if she wasn’t too young to use a child harness.

They didn’t think of buying a playpen for the baby since they didn’t plan to keep her for long, but he was starting to have second thoughts. He improvised with leather stripes and attached them to her little cradle, hoping that it’d be enough to keep her still while he decided to take one quick nap.  

He had a bad dream. Dreamt that he was a hairless fat baby with a silly red onesie and his father was carrying him on his arms, suddenly being breastfed by him.

Dante cursed when he jolted awake from the couch, the unwanted mental image would scar him for the rest of the afternoon, but then he realized that the baby had escaped the useless cradle again and also managed to crawl on the ceiling again.

“Damnit baby!” he snarled as he jumped to bring the little nuisance back to the ground. The squeaky laughter prompted him to pout at her. “Hey, I’m not your mom to always look after you, y-you…—”

He stumbled on his words, the torrent of thoughts he’s been keeping at bay cracked through him, but the baby wasn’t aware, as she only seemed to find his face funny enough to laugh at. She wasn’t helping. While he cooped her in his arms he picked the phone and dialed to Lady’s apartment, knowing she was still in the city.

“You busy? Yeah, she’s awake. Look, could you come over for a bit? I’ve got beer.”

“Good timing. Trish is tagging along. You don’t mind, do you?” Lady sounded a bit exhilarated for some reason. Was she having a good time?

“Not at all. She came here earlier, didn’t she tell you?”

“Nope. Oh, she’s now telling me that you offered her your first-born in exchange for pizza?”

He stiffened but forced out a chuckle, playing along. “I think a first-born can fetch more than pizza. What is she doing over your place anyway?”

“Nothing much. We’ll be there in a few, and I’ll bring some real beer for once, so hang in there.”

Resigned, Dante hung up and he just laid the baby at the couch where he put his pillows and quickly pulled out a half-empty carton of tomato juice out of his mini fridge. It was a good thing that neither Trish or Lady were here yet to see him chug down the whole juice carton before he let himself fall on top of the couch beside the baby; his weight almost made the baby jump, but she was so amused by the sudden movement that she joined her little clumsy hands together as if she wanted to clap. “Ha-ha-ha, very funny”, he retorted, as if the child could even understand him. Babies didn’t understand stress, so there was no way for her to know she was causing him a lot of it.

It wasn’t just the laughter getting to his nerves, it was all him and how he’s started to behave since the child was left at his door. There was a thing he didn’t want to let sink in ever since he realized the identity of the child, and it had been eating at him for days. It was a gradual realization crawling beneath his hide, finally coming through… and it was every bit as terrifying as he thought.

“I’m a dad. I’m a freaking dad...”

This feeling of anxiety was unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and finally acknowledging the facts wasn’t making him feel any better. It was like a bizarre dream he couldn’t wake up from, not necessarily the nightmarish kind, just bizarre enough for him to feel uncomfortable and sick.

He had to admit it, never in his 20 years of running a demon-hunting business had Dante thought that he’d ever have a chance at starting a family of his own. Well, technically his colleagues were kind of his family nowadays, but he thought more along the lines of what was considered a ‘traditional’ family. The thought crossed his mind, but he’d usually shrug it off as a distant silly fantasy.

Active devil hunters couldn’t really afford to have traditional family. Not in the long-term.

He thought of his parents, thought of his brother. They were all gone, their memories regretfully tainted and still hurt deeply. His father’s reputation alone put targets on all his loved ones and once he got himself killed by his enemies, he was unable to protect them when they needed him the most. Contemplating ‘family’ made him contemplate the possibility of failing to protect them… or even worse.

“How did I make it this far?” He muttered, picking up the baby up to his eye-level. She was blissfully unaware of his little crisis and still laughed in his face without a care in the world, her tiny hands touched his stubble and then grabbed his nose. “Yes, my face is beautiful, thanks for noticing, baby.”

But this wasn’t just his child though, and that was reason enough for Dante to want to put this parenting business behind him as soon as possible.

He didn’t spend the past year trying to forget Ursula just for this new problem in the form of a baby to show up. Even now Dante couldn’t really tell if he hated Ursula or if he just hated hating her so much.

Ursula could be into some serious trouble right now. But knowing this, Dante didn’t want to see her again. He just felt conflicted between his feelings of inadequacy and wanting to get over her for good.

The baby giggled through her drool-dripping mouth, her diaper was full of poop again and Dante sighed with heavy exhaustion.

….

Trish had been on speaking terms with Dante a little over a year, their relationship didn’t quite heal after their fight before he broke up with Ursula, they just remained safely distant to each other since their wounds were still fresh. Admittedly, this has been their longest ‘break’, and it couldn’t be helped since their whole relationship had been extremely problematic from the get-go, so it wasn’t rare that they’d take a break from each other pretty often.

Even if Trish didn’t live in Devil May Cry anymore, they still worked together when a job demanded a few extra-hands, through their emotionally-stunned hides they could perfectly work together as if nothing bad happened between them. They could even crack a few bad jokes to each other, have some drinks and greasy pizza after the job was done, laugh at their silly anecdotes, but their intimate barriers were unyielding and deep down knew that they couldn’t talk it out. If it wasn’t for Lady’s mediating between them, Trish and Dante would be constantly walking on eggshells.

Still, Dante wouldn’t look at her in the eye, even when he greeted them as he finished feeding the child. Trish didn’t mind anymore, the whole focus of attention was turned towards the hybrid baby and her sloppy bloodied mouth, nevertheless, Dante seemed to be in a slightly better mood than last time.

He smiled broadly when Lady pulled out of her bag the drinks.

“Fancy-brand beer, huh? You’re spoiling me like a sugar momma.”

“This might be the only chance in this decade you’ll get a beer this good. Don’t ruin it” Lady replied with a smug grin.

Dante used a dirty napkin to clean up the residual blood on the baby’s chin, rosy and content after being fed, she was calm enough to be laid in her cradle. They all sat around the shop’s desk, cracking open the bottles that Lady brought for the occasion; Trish was the first to drink up, deliberately turning her gaze away from the child. They made small talk about job contracts and some rambling about their little adventure on Fortuna…

Lady coughed, she had been careful to not drink too fast as her alcohol tolerance was much lower than her colleagues. She eyed the snoozing child, and eyed back at Trish, who then eyed a distracted Dante. It was beginning to get annoying to tip-toe around the subject.

“So. This is definitely Ursula’s baby?”

“… She totally is.” Dante shifted from his chair, crossing his legs. His face had this miserable conflicted grimace, but the drink might’ve helped to make him loosen up enough to talk more openly. “And No, there’s no way I’d have known that she was preggers before she left. Not like I’d have much of a choice, but I kind of wish she’d have at least come back to me for this.”

“Unless she didn’t originally intend to.” Trish added, taking another sip from the cold drink.

Dante didn’t even budge. “Then something big came up that forced Ursula to leave the baby behind, probably to never come back?”

“And it’s not like she doesn’t care about the baby. She clearly has taken good care of her up until she left her on the shop.” Trish replied, knowing that no heartless demon would waste their time nurturing a hybrid child. “But why?”

Lady tapped the mouth of her bottle. “If it was the baby who is being targeted, she wouldn’t have done this. Something particularly dangerous must be after Ursula herself if she thought that leaving the baby to you would be safer.”

Dante shrugged. “Can’t argue against that. Ursula is good at covering her tracks as it is, so whatever thing is after her is quickly catching up to her trail.”

“Do you know where she might be?”

He was silent for a few seconds, his eyes going back and forth between the sleeping baby and the shop’s windows. Ultimately he sighed as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“… I can think of a few places. But, you gals… I’m not going after her.”

Lady arched her brows. “Thought that out of all of us, you’d be the one with the strongest reason to go after her.”

He twisted his mouth, clearly uncomfortable. “And I think I have an equally strong reason to _not_ do it.”

“Look, Dante: nobody likes Ursula, but she’s the mother of this child, _your_ child. You can’t possibly think of leaving this girl without a mother because of some petty grudge, can you?”

He just gestured to the baby, putting up a conflicted grimace. “It’s not that simple…”

Trish tilted her head. “… You don’t want to share this responsibility with her.” To that, Dante finger gunned towards her.

“Exactly! Good for Ursula if she knows how to play cool mom, but I just don’t want to have to deal with her if I can avoid it.”

Lady shrugged. “Fair enough. Still, we gotta do it, otherwise we’re making ourselves look like huge jerks. More than what we already are anyway.”

“Do I even have a choice?” Dante groaned, finishing the rest of his bottle in one sitting. “Okay... Let’s just get this over with.”

He let the bottle hit the desk a little too hard, and disturbed the baby, the crying rising to break the uneasy atmosphere between the three hunters. He immediately just picked her up to gently coo her wailing away.

“… Do we have someone who can babysit her in the meanwhile?” Lady asked.

“I don’t think there’s anyone remotely qualified to care for a part-demon baby. And we don’t know how long we’ll be searching for Ursula”, Trish added, staring at the baby while taking the bottle’s top to her lips.

“What’d be more irresponsible? To leave her with your every day nanny or to take her with us?”

Dante shrugged, finally managed to quiet down the child. He’d become good at handling her. “No right answer for that. But I’d feel better if any of us could keep their eyes on her.”

They really didn’t have many options, and taking more time to arrange a safe place for the child could make them waste more time and blow the chance of finding her mother again.

Trish wasn’t feeling particularly enthusiastic about this whole ordeal, she was more likely to shoot first and ask questions later if she encountered Ursula alone. She didn’t know if Dante would still be soft on her after all this time, and part of Trish just hoped he sobered up for good on the matter. Whether Ursula was a good mother or not wasn’t going to erase everything else that she did.

The irony of those thoughts didn’t escape Trish, she smiled sadly as she drank what remained of her beer.

“So, where do you think we should start then?” Lady asked.

“… First place would be her grandma’s house” Dante said, his voice strangely dry after gulping down the bittersweet drink. His eyes were so distant.

…

_“Flowers?”_

_Her wide black eyes immediately followed the sight of the white and purple hyacinths bouquet. He took an awkward walk to put them in her hands, as she didn’t even know how to take this gesture. She kept staring down at the bouquet with a dumbfounded expression, and Dante guessed that this was the first time someone’s ever gifted her a flower bouquet._

_“I had no idea what you’d like, but I remember seeing these on Bridget’s garden… Do you like them?”_

_Her thin lips pulled into a slim smile, for a moment it seemed like her pale face gained a little bit of color. Her face was never her best asset, but it was when she smiled that Dante felt at loss for words. It didn’t matter if it was only a disguise, he simply knew that the smile was genuine._

_“You picked them when thinking of me, did you not? That’s the only part that matters to me. Thank you.” And she held the bouquet softly against her chest._

_He could still see the light scratch marks on her skin, she adamantly refused to keep the bandage on because ‘it didn’t let her skin breathe’, and she was probably right, but it still unnerved him to look at those scars in the open._

_She noticed his staring and decided to turn around to look for a vase for the bouquet. “You needn’t worry about me, it’s almost healed now. It doesn’t heal as fast as yours, but it’s fine.”_

_It was true. By the time the day was over, she’d no longer have those scars. That was how most demons were anyway. She seemed to get over physical harm just fine, but she feared and suffered, not pain itself but whatever caused it. How much pain could she stand? Did she feel pain in the exact same way he could? Or was it something else entirely?_

_He shrugged off his questions as he sat on his old couch, realizing how much it smelled like clove. And old books. Oh yeah, since he let her bring her books from old lady Bridget’s house, his shop started to smell like books, not ancient enochian tomes, not shady dark grimoires, just regular old books; he never had this many literature books under his roof at the same time. Ironically, it gave him a nostalgic sense of normalcy, something he didn’t realized he sorely missed since he was a kid._

_She had pilled up finished books on the table next to the couch, she was a remarkably fast reader._

_“Slow down with book time, bookworm, you’ll be left without books to read when you’re done moving them here”, he chuckled._

_“Oh, bold you of you to assume I’d only like to read them once”, she replied, picking up the one she left on top of the pile. “I thought that you’d like this. It’s similar to that one movie airing on the T.V. the other day.”_

_When he took it in his hands, he forced a grin. “‘Flowers in the Attic’? This is literally the book it was based on. It’s the same title as the movie, remember?”_

_“It is? Huh.” Whereas her obliviousness to obvious things could be endearing, it was sometimes testing._

_“What? You liked that movie?”_

_“Yes, but the book was so much better. That’s… why I wanted you to read it.”_

_He knew that she liked the movie, but he wouldn’t have watched it if he knew more about the story, the subjects turned out to be too uncomfortable for a pleasant afternoon watching a movie. “No offense, but I didn’t dig the movie, I was falling asleep halfway through it.”_

_It was then when her hands pulled the book from him, the color in her face faded._

_“I see. Silly me for trying to find a nice book for you, seems like I still can’t do this right...” She looked down at the book with veiled contempt, her smile becoming into such an apathetic gesture that it hardly resembled what was just a minute ago._

_His heart rushed, he hurried to hold the book still before she walked away with it._

_“I’m going to read it. It’s fine. Thanks, Ursula.”_

_To his words, her expression and iron-grip on the book softened. He almost sighed in relief: he really saved this one. It was a bad thing when she was left alone with negative emotions. He needed to humor her if he wanted her to feel safe and cared for, couldn’t afford to keep making mistakes with someone so fragile._

_Still, he truly didn’t intend to read all of the book. He’d later search on the internet for a good plot overview to get out of this tight spot._

_She wandered around the shop’s lobby, looking at the old furniture they brought from her grandma’s house, the only thing she thought it was worth bringing first. It was worn and made of thin wooden planks, it looked like it’d fall apart if handled just a little too roughly, stood out like a sore thumb between his tacky mini-bar and bludgeoned jukebox, just like Ursula did since he let her in his life._

_“… The bookshelf could be in a better place, right?” she asked quietly, walking under the shadows of the gloomy lobby, passing her long fingers over the aforementioned._

_Dante shrugged, putting the book down momentarily. “We’ll just move it to my bedroom. It’s cozier there, you know?”_

_He wanted to catch her flustered reaction to that smooth-talking of his, but she didn’t look his direction._

_With barely a whiff of voice, she replied: “Sounds good.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave your feedback, whether you liked it or not, anything helps!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One emotional roadtrip doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me forever to post this chapter. Life between work and other passions has been hectic.

They made about ten hours on car from the city to the countryside, went to a small town that used to be a hot spot for mercenaries and ultimately taken over by devil hunters because of the rich mineral resources found in its old mines, used to alchemize Vital Stars, a highly coveted item that most devil hunters used to heal immediate wounds. For the same reason the place was heavily warded and no demon with half a brain would dare stepping near there alone.

But the house that the trio were looking for was at the town’s outskirts, where vigilance slackened and wards weren’t as powerful.

Dante, for one, knew that Bridget had chosen such a place to live in order to protect her ‘granddaughter’ while cleverly maintaining appearances, because not many devil-hunters would be open to the existence of friendly devils, if they didn’t already believe Sparda was just a fairytale. But then again, Dante knew that ‘friendly’ was pretty relative in this kind of world.

The baby cried away over half of journey and it certainly put all the trio on the edge. Trish was so annoyed by the constant wailing that her nails started to leave claw marks on the leather armrest. Dante and Lady took shifts between driving and watching over the child, since Trish was extremely adamant about touching the creature.

They made a stop at a gas station and with a convenience store during the afternoon, the town was surrounded by a wooded area, so the highway made them go through the most clichéd horror-flick gas station in the middle of a forest. The number of stuffy vans and worn-down cars charged with holy wards parked in the same place were the biggest giveaway of how close they were from the town.

Trish was visibly uncomfortable and keeping to herself in the parking lot, so self-aware that her demonic presence would be noticed if she dropped her guard among other hunters. “I hate coming to this place. It’s suffocating…”

Dante wasn’t all that concerned with hiding himself, he was actually a little famous (and infamous) in the community, but he didn’t trust people to not give him trouble if he showed off. Besides, with a half-demon baby on board, he didn’t really want to attract negative attention. Even so, he casually ran into the store quickly to buy what Lady asked him while she fed the baby with the nasty blood-formula he made; he took his chance to buy an extra store-brand six-pack without a second thought, earning him a piercing stare from Lady as he returned.

“Are you serious?” Lady gnarled.

“What? It was on sale!” he retorted, realizing how desperate he sounded, and the truth was that this wouldn’t be nearly enough even if he managed to drink them all by himself in one sitting. Trish just promptly took the remaining 5 cans off his hands, much to his whining. “Come on…! Do you seriously want me to do this sober?”

“We don’t know yet if she’s here. Besides, I doubt these would be enough to get you as drunk as you want to be.”

“It’s the thought what counts…”

“You’ll drink away all you want after we’re all done here.” Lady interrupted.

Meanwhile Lady took from her vault a baby carrier that she bought to buckle the child in her front; funnily enough, the baby’s head rested against her breasts. The baby didn’t seem to mind, but Dante was about to break into laughter while Trish was having a hard time keeping her cool. Even if it was meant to keep the baby safe, it crashed with Lady’s intimidating presence. It certainly didn’t help any more when the child moved her arms around and hit Lady’s chin, nearly knocking her shades off.

They agreed that the one who’d be tasked with caring for the child and looking out for the perimeter would be Lady, while Dante and Trish would investigate Bridget’s house. After she passed away, Ursula didn’t sell the property, didn’t even properly empty it after trying to move away, but since Lady was a regular on the town nearby, she knew for a fact that it’s been abandoned for months… at least, it appeared to be.

“There’s an abandoned vigilance post about 400 yards away from her house, I will be stationed right there and keep watch while you guys search; are we still on the same page?” Lady asked as she added the weight of her bags on her shoulders. Trish packed light, as always; Dante always took his Ebony & Ivory along with the claymore Rebellion, which he took everywhere in a guitar case to not attract attention.

They walked away from the gas station into the woods when nobody was looking at them, it’d be dark soon, so the afternoon shadows welcomed them into its embrace.  The cicadas were starting their early song of the night.

“You sure you can take care of her all by yourself?” Trish asked while staring at the baby flailing her arms to Lady’s face.

“So long as she doesn’t start pulling my nose again, I think we’ll be good” she grunted, shaking her face off the baby’s hands. The baby was trying to find something as she was turning her head on the opposite direction Lady was, whining in distress, probably about to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I didn’t go anywhere yet.” Dante spoke softly, and the baby’s blue eyes followed the sound of his voice, she calmed down. In all fairness, she simply stared at his fingers and probably associated them with ‘feeding time’, but it was a fact that Dante was the one who made her feel at ease the most. Perhaps she unconsciously acknowledged him as her caretaker.

The trio entered a clearing on the thick woods, they identified the abandoned post and quickly surveyed the area for any sort of dangers. Lady stared back at her peers as she held her rifle close against the confused baby, far behind they she could see the shape of the huge house looming like a sad lonesome shadow.

“Bridget’s house didn’t have any anti-demon wards anywhere, so if there’s any unwelcome guests hanging around, I’ll let you know if I can’t snipe them.”

“Just don’t shoot at her.” Dante instilled, tried to not sound excessively worried, but Lady shrugged it off.

“Can’t make any promises. But if she does something funny, I’ll make sure to aim for the legs.”

“How about we don’t talk about possibly shooting Ursula in front of the baby?”

“I mean, I didn’t think you’d mind terribly. You brought your own guns, for crying out loud.”

“That’s, uhh—look, Ursula is a weakling, so shooting is a waste of time and ammo anyway. And you know I always bring my guns everywhere.” He didn’t want to start second-guessing now of all times.

Trish sighed, pulling out her guns. “We can roast her later, how about we just go in to see if she’s even in there?”

Dante pressed his lips together and arched his eyebrows as he looked back at Trish. She was right, and Dante didn’t know if this little business was even worth the emotional baggage. “Let’s just get this over with.”

….

_Dante met Bridget years ago when he just opened Devil May Cry, she was a weathered mercenary associate of Lady, who was also specialized in demon-hunting; they partnered for half a dozen of jobs and she was good._

_One day she called him she asked if he wanted to take part in another job, given that he knew she’d always have something worth his time. It was a pain to drive all the way to the middle of the country to meet her, but she was extremely adamant about travelling from her location._

_It was then that he forgot that Bridget was getting older, and by the time he arrived to the lovely countryside house he met the old woman with the last of her brown hairs fading away in gray, walking around supported with a cane as one of her legs moved a little funny. Last time they met in person, was three years prior. Age was a cruel thing indeed. At least she got enough money to buy a nice house and tacky-looking jewelry, like the yellow-gem ring she was obviously showing off on her wrinkly bony hand that tensed on the cane’s handle with each step she made._

_But she wasn’t alone. A young woman was living in her house… and he immediately knew._

_That old yet always indescribable supernatural smell that he learned to discern demons from humans, it was so discreetly hidden beneath the sweet scent of clove._

_Her big black eyes widened as they met him from the distance and she hurriedly stepped back into the house’s hallway._

_“There’s been some trouble at the mines nearby. From my recent findings I’m suspecting there’s something massive brewing under town, and you’re the only one I know who can put up with numbers this large, Tony.”_

_“Your findings, Bri? Did your new caretaker help you on that?” he asked, signaling at the girl peering from the door._

_“As a matter of fact, she did.” said Bridget with her head high, staring daggers at him. “Ursula! Come over to greet grandma’s friend.”_

_The girl came out of her hiding spot and walked to her ‘grandma’s’ side, regarding Dante with a fearful knowing look. When Bridget softly elbowed her she stumbled on her words and talked with a breathy voice:_

_“I’m not bad… I promise.”_

_That was when Dante formally met Ursula. Bridget, as she could no longer hide the fact that her ‘granddaughter’ was an actual demon, vaguely explained to him that she rescued her and gave her a name years ago. ‘… She was no different than a declawed cat, I just couldn’t do what was expected of me, and I haven’t regretted it ever since’._

_The old woman was pleasantly surprised when Dante nodded in understanding._

_“If you think can make it work, then I’m fine with it.” It was then just barely a year ago that he became job partner with Trish, and he was more open to the idea of humane demons, even if the thought of a non-violent one was still ridiculous. This wouldn’t mean he’d let his guard down, but he couldn’t deny that he was a little curious about Bridget’s family addition._

_Ursula had a very strange human guise, whereas feminine demons wanted to appear as conventionally attractive as possible (for human standards), Ursula was just… not. Her face was sickly pale and too angular, her black eyes a little too big and eyebrows so thin they were practically non-existent. At least she had nice boobs and thick curly hair. None of which were real. But he honestly didn’t know how would she look underneath that human suit, nor cared to find out._

_He stopped himself from leering once Bridget called him out, the devil girl was clearly uncomfortable with the forced socialization already, went back running into the kitchen._

_As Bridget filled him in with the last details of his mission to the town’s mines, she insisted that she’d back him up (not to his surprise). The old woman was at the end of her career, but he wasn’t about to undermine her remaining skills if she wanted to have a part with this mission. But Dante wasn’t counting on her ‘granddaughter’ to come along for the part as they parted from home with Ursula tailing them with two large backpacks filled to the brim with heavy arms._

_“Does she fight?” he asked, aware that the devil girl could’ve heard him._

_“Oh, no, no, she can’t fight for shit! Out there she’d sooner become fodder than a distraction to the enemy. That’s why she’s always close behind me carrying my weapons instead.”_

_“Geez, Bri. That’s cold” he murmured, half-amused at the old lady’s crude honesty. “Why even take her along if you think she’s so helpless?”_

_“… I can’t protect her forever, she might as well learn to pick up some habits while she still can. Besides, I’m old and my legs can sometimes give away… she’s never failed to catch me when I fall.”_

_It was for a split second that he looked back at the girl, her head lowered upon Bridget’s words with what seemed like quiet gratitude, a tender small smile that somehow made her face look a lot more pleasant._

_Dante didn’t fully understand yet, but Bridget did truly love her._

…

“Check upstairs, I’ll go to the basement.”

“Huh, first time you ever want me to go top. Try not to finish before I do.”

The double-entendre may or may have not been accidental but he didn’t welcome it in this situation. Trish didn’t exactly have the face of someone he’d like to hear saying saucy stuff.

He was able to smell something the moment they broke into the house, the paintings and the forgotten furniture were mostly intact, there were no signs of vandalism anywhere, but god, the air was stagnant with dust and mold. Bridget did mention that this used to be an old guesthouse, which explained the amount of small rooms crammed in one place.

As Trish’s heels echoes through the main hall as she ventured to the stairwell and he looked for the doorway to Bridget’s basement, where he knew she kept the good stuff. Out of respect for the old lady he never came back to take anything, but Ursula would never have given use to most of Bridget’s craft. At least, he wanted to make sure of that.

As he suspected, the old door wasn’t locked, but curiously enough, he felt protective wards stand in the entrance, making the half-demon blood inside him reel in apprehension. This was recent. He was able to break through them without pulling a muscle, but they usually left him feeling a weird kind of migraine, usually depended on how powerful they were.

He analyzed the stone charms positioned to frame the door, they hung from thread to some nails sticking out from the inside of the entrance and there was a long stick with a hanger wire coiled at its end, probably to move the charms without touching them. The way down to the basement was brief and the scent of clove got stronger, his heart was beating in his throat.

The fist thing he noted was the thick white spiderwebs hanging from the basement’s ceiling, confirming all his suspicions about the one who took the place, he immediately heard the startled gasp coming from the other side of the room. She held a rifle in her hands but she immediately put it down as he showed himself.

“Dante… I told you to not look for me” uttered a quiet disillusioned voice.

For a moment he hesitated to even look at her, but through the curtains of spiderwebs there she was. Small, cowering and feeble as ever. There she was and his legs were heavy. He felt his neck break to sweat and swallowed hard, his mouth opened and closed, finding himself at loss for words, even though Ursula was cornered.

Still the same scrawny female figure, still the same big black eyes, even if they weren’t real, looking back at them made him fall into a great pit of unease, as if all the things he did and let her do returned to punch him in his face.

This was the exact feeling he wanted to avoid by refusing to see her again. And he knew how ludicrous it was, that she was so puny and he could easily break her in half if he wanted, there was never a moment in which he couldn’t simply push her away, yet he was the one feeling stupidly helpless before her.

Dante forced himself to stand tall, looked down at the deceptively human skin beneath her chin, clearly burnt recently as it hadn’t healed yet. Perhaps because of the charms...? She clearly put them there to protect herself from other demons, even if it meant taking a possibly lethal risk.

“Whatever it is that’s coming after you, I can kill it, you know”, Dante spoke bluntly, trying to shutting down his turmoil of emotions.

Half of her face was partially covered by the thick dark hair, it was hard to make out her expression. “There’s nothing for you to kill in this place, Dante. Just go away.” Her voice was so weak that it was little more than just a whiff of air… even so, he couldn’t stop feeling anxious.

“… Look, I hate to be _that_ guy, but about that baby you left at my door? She needs you. Stop pretending to be tough and tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on, don’t you get it? I told you everything you needed to know in the phone days ago!” she sounded exasperated. But the more aggressive she tried to sound, the more she cowered to the wall.

“It’s not like I’m happy to see you either. But you’ve got some explaining to do… You know that this concerns me too, Ursula, if that baby is exactly what I think it is.”

He paused as he noted how she slowly paced behind the thin layer of spiderwebs, her black eyes looking down at her own fidgety hands. They were also severely burnt, she still wore the ring with the striking yellow gem.

“There’s… so much I want to tell you. But I couldn’t. I don’t think I can even begin to explain. Nay, I can’t even bring myself to do it…”

He sighed, no matter what she did, she somehow managed to inspire him pity. “Whatever it is, it can wait, I will protect you and that baby until you are ready to talk.” And as he said that, he tried to walk towards her with unease, but that’s when she started to get further away to the corner of the room. “… What’s wrong?”

Ursula wasn’t looking at him, she braced her shoulders almost protectively. Her eyes were damp and his body tensed. Her skin stared to shimmer abnormally and cracked open, the form of her bones and limbs growing and changing with unnerving sounds until her lower body became a sickly pale gray arachnid form with six sharp long black legs supporting her weight, her head was hairless, had eight red eyes and her jaw was split into monstrous pincers. But even when her hands were covered in black carapace, the yellow gem ring remained in place.

The Arachne were humanoid from the waist up, but she’s been always too small for her kind, the sight of her was hardly any scary for a veteran like him. Even so, he was never comfortable with that form of hers… After all, he had killed dozens like her before, and she knew it.

“Fine, then let me tell you the truth…” The long legs moved her body closer to him, he made an effort to not back away. He didn’t like those legs. He didn’t like that face. Didn’t matter if he was a half-demon himself, he could never read her emotions in that form, her hushed transformed voice was the only giveaway, and even that wasn’t enough.

“Remember what I said about humans?”

His scowl went uncomfortably tense. “You said that humans disappoint you.”

“Everyone, even grandma… even you. Humans are just so… disgusting, they’re no better than demons…”she whimpered and he could see her monstrous frame trembling. Ursula sighed through her grotesque pincers. “Oh how I wish I didn’t feel for you… would have made it easier to rip myself open and take that filth out of me.”

He never forgot that she could cry in spite of everything, and that only made this encounter even tougher to withstand. She had been hurt and he knew it was his fault. It always came back to that. It was always his fault and he didn’t think he could bear any more of that.

“Why have the child anyway? Why take care of her until now?” he breathed, finding it hard to keep looking at her.

She shook her head. “I couldn’t bring myself to stop it. It grew and grew, and then it was born… And I was too scared to come back to you, because I knew you’d just hate me more.” Her voice always remained small. “… She has your eyes.”

He shuddered, realizing how tightly his fists clenched. ‘ _Shut up. Just shut up_.’ It was the same old words, same old act, all over again, making his heart beat so fast he started to feel physically ill, like his insides recoiled every time she spoke like that. He hated how easy it was to believe in her, being so pathetic all the time just added to her credibility

“Dante, I wanted to do something good for you, at least once… and this is the most I can do. So just take her and I promise I’ll be out of your life forever.”

He grimaced, hurt was spread on his face. “You’re full of shit, Ursula.”

“… What?”

“You heard me! I don’t believe what you’ve said!” He let the frustration ignite his words, but she didn’t cower completely. She seemed even more distraught.

“Why is it so hard to accept? I wasn’t even good for you! I’ve hurt you so much…!”

“What? So that’s it? Do you seriously expect me to buy into all this victim-blaming of yours?”

Indignant, she rose her voice at him. “What else do you want? What else do I need to tell you to make you go away?”

She started and cowered defensively in realization of what she just said, her big red eyes all at once seemed to look anywhere but him. “ _Oh no_ , something else is going on! I understand running away from responsibilities, but locking yourself in granny’s basement with wards and all the weapons?”

Dante caught Ursula right there, and momentarily, he got a moment of quiet self-righteousness. For once, it felt great to have the high ground, but in light of the circumstances, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to punish her for that act. Ursula was clearly scared to death by whatever cornered her here. Once again, he had to smother his pride and become less aggressive. He never thought he’d find himself again in this position, even less when all fondness he once had for her wilted, but there was his gut telling him that this was what he should do for the sake of that child. Nothing that she’s done indicated that she didn’t care for the baby, he was sure of that.

“You can tell me, c’mon.” He tilted his head up, trying to not look mean Unconsciously, his steps were careful as he extended his hand towards her, everything about Ursula was about being careful. For once, he just wanted to be deserving of her trust.

But she stubbornly refused to look back at him, her long black legs taking her farther and farther away from him, a cornered spider. Even if she attacked, Dante could brush it off. “Urs—”

“Please, just leave me alone! Why can’t you understand?!” she growled between her pincers as she shot at his face a dense sticky web that instantly blinded him. “LEAVE ME!”

He sighed, hurriedly trying to rip the spider web off his face. “Can you stop that?” But she didn’t stop shooting that icky heavy net, it was quickly enveloping his arms as well.

Now, he couldn’t say that he didn’t see this coming, but it was mostly his fault for refusing to see Ursula as a threat. It was frustrating, after all this time, he still managed to underestimate her. He only had himself to blame.

Dante heard Trish’s heels rushing downstairs, having heard Ursula yelling. He rushed to tear off the gross gauze of white webs off his face as he ran for Ursula, who was already escaping the basement at full speed.

“Ursula! URSULA!” Next thing he knew, he smelt burnt skin going out of the door, and the echo of rapid light steps that have tracked after the broken down door of Bridget’s house, Trish already on the chase after the scared-off Arachne. “Damnit, don’t let her get away!”

Dante ran as fast as his legs could take him in the dead of the night, but within seconds of following Trish’s trail he started to weigh the hopelessness. He just knew that if they couldn’t catch her then this would be the last time he’d ever see Ursula again.

And he couldn’t decide if that was for the best or not.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please do leave reviews behind if you liked what you read or you'd like me to improve anywhere. Thanks for your time!


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